I am the very model of a modern Major-General
11-12-2017, 04:15 PM
Apollo had taken the time to rest after his long journey, but it was time now for him to take up duties within the familial structure. He knew little of the surrounding lands and inhabitants for himself, only what little his siblings had been able to impart to him of their own knowledge. He would need to begin to range around the canyon, both patrolling for dangers towards his family and acquainting himself with the area. With the southern continent's dry season threatening to settle in any day now Apollo was making it a point to keep most of his scouting forays to the night and twilight hours to avoid the growing heat. Even with the pale coat he bore rather than the dark coats of his littermates, it was still going to take some getting used to.
Perched on a crumbling stone wall that threatened to crumble further beneath his weight, Apollo was allowing his sun-gold gaze to sweep over the tangle of herb beds without focusing on any one thing, the drifting gaze seeking only what hadn't been there at the last sweep, or for movement, or simply anything out of place. This was the sort of sentry duty he might normally have placed himself in on his family's home turf when he wasn't actively patrolling along the borders, rather than when he was out on a wide patrol, but he was taking a break from his path for the moment and saw no reason to allow himself to be taken by surprise while he rested.
As was his habit the phantom held himself almost militaristically straight, his bearing like that of a long-time general's aide. Shoulders and paws squared with precision, chin up and tail tucked out of the way, his eyes cool and distant with his proper dignity. Even with the faint breeze to tug at his coat, it seemed as though every hair was precisely in its place and neatly groomed. His was the appearance of a proper military gentleman, and there was no mistaking that.
Perched on a crumbling stone wall that threatened to crumble further beneath his weight, Apollo was allowing his sun-gold gaze to sweep over the tangle of herb beds without focusing on any one thing, the drifting gaze seeking only what hadn't been there at the last sweep, or for movement, or simply anything out of place. This was the sort of sentry duty he might normally have placed himself in on his family's home turf when he wasn't actively patrolling along the borders, rather than when he was out on a wide patrol, but he was taking a break from his path for the moment and saw no reason to allow himself to be taken by surprise while he rested.
As was his habit the phantom held himself almost militaristically straight, his bearing like that of a long-time general's aide. Shoulders and paws squared with precision, chin up and tail tucked out of the way, his eyes cool and distant with his proper dignity. Even with the faint breeze to tug at his coat, it seemed as though every hair was precisely in its place and neatly groomed. His was the appearance of a proper military gentleman, and there was no mistaking that.